


Animal Instinct

by stetsonblack



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animals, M/M, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-08-03
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:10:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stetsonblack/pseuds/stetsonblack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did this kid honestly believe he was a pet pyschic? This is not what Harvey had meant when he'd asked Donna to solve his cat problem. Written for a prompt on the suitsmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This particular story was written for a phreakycat prompt on the suitsmeme where Mike is a pet psychic. It is the first and only slash story I have ever written, so go easy on me, please? Anywho, enjoy!

Harvey opened his door with a skeptical look. If he didn't owe her for being awesome, he'd kill Donna for making him agree to this.

The man standing behind the threshold to his condo was probably in his twenties, with untamed blond hair and pretty blue eyes. Normally, eyes that pretty would be enough for him to welcome their owner into his home, but this occasion warranted caution. And maybe lots of shame.

"Harvey Specter?" the man asked him, clearly attempting not to look awed by Harvey's massive place.

Harvey sighed and hung his head. "Unfortunately." He swung the door open and waved for the kid to come in.

"I'm Mike, by the way," the kid said, offering Harvey his hand.

Harvey looked at it like it was diseased and then turned from him to pick up the root of all his current evils—Stuart.

The cat was struggling in Harvey's grasp, and while this was now a common reaction, it hadn't been a problem until a few weeks ago, when Stuart had suddenly started acting out. Harvey hadn't known what the problem was and his life was stressful enough at work; he couldn't deal with this at home. So he'd done the smart thing—he'd told Donna to fix it, which apparently led him to accept having an animal psychic visit his private residence. And Harvey used the term psychic very loosely.

He held out the struggling cat, lashing claws and all, towards Mike. "Here. Fix him."

Mike stared at Harvey for a long second before quickly grabbing Stuart. Unfortunately for both of them, the cat didn't seem all too happy at being manhandled, and swiped its paw at Mike's face before scuttling under Harvey's imported Italian leather couch.

Harvey looked at the thin red lines on the kid's cheek and with a sigh went to fetch some band-aids from his bathroom. He supposed that had been his own fault. Now he had to apologize to the fraud before kicking him out. He hurried his steps, hoping he wouldn't return to find Mike gone and something missing from his stunning vase collection.

But instead he found a very nice view of Mike's rear, as it stuck up in the air towards Harvey. Mike was clearly trying to coax Stuart out from under the couch, and Harvey had to give the kid points for trying at least. That and he had a nice ass.

"C'mon, please?" Mike whined at the cat, and surprisingly, Stuart began crawling out. Mike sat up, and Harvey redirected his eyes to the feline, hoping Mike hadn't noticed him staring.

"Thank you," Mike said to Stuart. "Now, tell me what's bothering you."

Harvey resisted the urge to laugh and settled for a silent scoff instead. Like that tactic would work on a cat. It didn't even work on human beings!

But Mike was nodding his head like he was listening intently to someone. Harvey leaned in and listened as Mike started carrying on a one-sided conversation.

"Really? No! He didn't clean it for _how_ long?" Mike asked incredulously, and he shot Harvey a frown.

Stuart _mrowed_ at Mike, like he was annoyed that the kid's attention had shifted off him.

"Sorry. No, I _am_ listening. Please continue." And Stuart began a loud angry purr. Harvey definitely recognized it as one of the recent developments he'd had to deal with. The cat had begun that noise when Harvey had been trying to watch a movie the other night, if he recalled correctly.

"What?" Mike said loudly, startling Harvey from his memories. "He made you watch the whole thing?" Mike turned to Harvey and glared. Harvey wished he felt angrier about having those blue eyes turned on him.

He gave a defensive shrug, attempting to obliterate the feelings welling in his chest and took up looking at Mike like he was a criminal—which he was, in Harvey's mind. "What?"

"He says you chose to watch _Best in Show_ instead of _Oliver and Company_ the other night. Is that true?" Mike sounded like he was a teacher who'd caught someone cheating.

Harvey tried to figure out what he was talking about. He'd come home a few days ago, exhausted from a long day of having to work with Louis, and his cat had managed to completely knock over his neatly stacked DVDs. Stuart had been sitting innocently atop the DVD _Oliver and Company_ , which Harvey didn't even know he'd owned, and mewed pathetically at him. Harvey had decided after cleaning up the mess that he needed to watch something funny, so he picked out the parody film about dog shows.

But how did Mike know about that? He obviously hadn't actually learned about it from Stuart. That would be ridiculous.

"I thought so," Mike said, reading the suspicion on Harvey's face as an admission of guilt.

Harvey rolled his eyes. "He's a cat! He doesn't know what a TV _is_ , let alone what I'd be watching on it! This is ridiculous!" Harvey declared, preparing to just throw this kid out his door, despite his pretty eyes and fine ass.

"He has a _name_ , Mr. Specter." Mike turned suddenly as Stuart meowed at him again. "Oh, and he prefers if you call him Mr. Whiskers like Donna does."

Harvey narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious. "Like Donna, huh? Is that what this is? She thinks this is a joke, I see. Well, I've had enough. Get out. Tell her she can foot your bill, 'cause I'm not paying to be made fun of." Harvey stomped over to his door and threw it wide, gesturing for Mike to get the hell out.

But the blond ignored him and simply glared. "Mr. Specter, you have a serious problem here. I'm not just going to ignore a request for help."

Harvey's smile was deadly. He started to threaten Mike, but the kid spoke over him.

"Stuart—"

Stuart meowed loudly.

"—Mr. Whiskers isn't happy with the way you've been acting and he's asked me to help him out. Now, you can either live unhappily here, or you can let me fix things."

Harvey stared in disbelief at this kid. Did he honestly think he was a real animal psychic? Forget calling the police to get rid of this kid, he needed a straight jacket. But he had to admit, the kid had guts, standing up to him like that. Donna definitely knew how to pick them, that's for sure.

Mike waited until Harvey had dazedly closed the door before continuing.

"Now, Mr. Whiskers wants me to tell you that he's sorry for all the things he did to upset you, but he was just trying to get you to pay attention to him like you used to. He says he's most sorry for that bonsai tree he destroyed last week, and the…the what?" Mike asked in surprise, turning to raise an eyebrow at the cat. "Really? A hand-woven, painted tribal rug?"

Harvey was shocked. No one knew about that rug, and the bonsai tree was something he kept hidden on his balcony. Not even Donna knew he had it. Maybe this kid—No! It wasn't possible! Was it?

Harvey was flustered, a feeling he wasn't accustomed to having, along with most other feelings, actually. Feeling strange as he looked at this man, he began, "Are you…oh forget it. Just, tell him I'm sorry for neglecting him and not changing his litter sooner. I've been busy."

Mike nodded and turned to Mr. Whiskers. _Stuart! Damn it, his name is Stuart!_ Harvey thought.

The kid was standing up now and brushing off his knees as Stuart rubbed against his ankles, purring. Those blue eyes were distracting Harvey now that they were so close once more, and he suddenly remembered why he was holding now-crushed band-aids in his hand.

"Your face," he muttered to Mike.

The kid looked confused as he lifted a hand to his cheek, but Harvey didn't want to be in the same room anymore. He felt a sudden overwhelming need to touch the scratch, to slide his fingers across the smooth skin of Mike's cheek. He really needed this stupid kid to leave.

Yanking his door open once more, he grabbed Mike's hand, shoved the band-aids in it, and gave him a hard push out the door.

When it was closed and locked, Harvey slid down it to sit on the floor. _Stupid fake/real psychic with pretty eyes._ Stuart climbed into his lap and rubbed against his shoulder sympathetically.

"Yeah, I know. I liked him too," Harvey muttered.


	2. Chapter 2

Harvey sighed and leaned back in his chair, absently twirling a baseball in one hand.

He'd been trying to focus on his current merger case but he kept on getting distracted. Whoever had proofed this particular draft had used a blue highlighter, and Harvey couldn't stop thinking about how it wasn't nearly as nice a color as that pet psychic's eyes.

He tightened his fist around the baseball, hoping to vent some of his frustration.

"You realize that's signed, right?" Donna's voice broke through on the intercom.

Harvey glanced at the ball and came to his senses. With a swear, he hastily replaced the ball in its display holder on his desk.

 _Stupid kid_ , he thought, trying to erase the memory of those eyes and that lithe frame, and that very nice ass, sticking up at him. His mind started to wonder what it looked like without jeans to cover it up, when he realized he'd lost his focus again. He shook himself angrily and slammed his hand down on the open folder of contracts.

This was ridiculous! He needed to get over this, and soon. He couldn't afford to waste time thinking about fraudulent pretty boys who pretended to talk to animals.

Only, the kid had seemed to have fixed his cat problem. Stuart had seemed like his old self again, and nothing had been destroyed when Harvey had left this morning.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way Mike's skin had seemed so soft and pale, highlighted by the bright red scar of fresh scratches.

Harvey decided he needed to fix this—thing—whatever it was, and fast. He wasn't getting any work done, nor would he at this rate. He decided that his attraction to Mike was directly linked to the kid's so-called psychic abilities. Therefore, in Harvey-land, if he could just prove Mike to be a fraud, he could absolve himself of any emotional attachments. After all, Harvey didn't associate himself with such low-lifes.

So it was settled. All he needed to do was prove Mike wasn't a psychic and that would be the end of things. Harvey resolved to plan his next attack on the kid's credentials once he got home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Bad language and mentions of animal abuse in this chapter.

Amazingly enough, Harvey's next encounter with the so-called psychic was entirely accidental.

The blond was biking down the street looking like an idiot with his ridiculous helmet, when Harvey was distracted from his (totally in no way leering or lecherous) spying. He turned his head toward the loud and abrupt barking.

The dog was some kind of Rottweiler and German Sheppard mix, if he had to guess. It had a bunch of faded scars on its face, as well as one particularly ugly cut that looked somewhat fresher. Its owner was a shady looking kid with way too many visible tattoos that Harvey was certain identified him as some sort of criminal.

The man was kicking the barking dog, trying to get it to shut up, and it made Harvey's blood boil. He was about to stand in preparation to interfere when he heard a soft crash and a shout.

Mike had apparently thrown his bike to the pavement, startling the surrounding pedestrians and patrons of the coffee shop where Harvey was stationed, and was now screaming furiously at the gang member to leave the poor animal alone.

Harvey once again admired the guts that this kid had, but realized that he must be severely lacking in brains to go shouting to someone who probably could and would kill him.

Harvey stood hastily and took quick steps over to the two, all the time hoping the argument wouldn't escalate into a knife-fight.

"You're scum, you know that?" Mike was shouting at the gang member, who, to Harvey's surprise, looked shocked that anyone dared to talk that way to him. "You have no right to treat Oscar that way!" Harvey glanced back at the still-barking dog only to find no tag or indication that he had a name. Had Mike just made it up? He was good, Harvey had to admit. He also looked incredibly delicious when he was angry.

"Get the fuck away from me, you little—" the gang member threatened.

Harvey interrupted before Mike could get himself killed. "Hey!" They both looked at Harvey and the dog growled.

"Mr. Specter?" Mike asked, and Harvey ignored the heady feeling flooding his brain at the fact that Mike remembered his name.

"How much for the dog?" he asked, not entirely sure what he was doing. His mouth was moving on its own and Harvey pointedly avoided looking at Mike.

The gang kid stared at Harvey like he was mad. "He's _my_ fuckin' dog, dickhead. Get your own."

Harvey pulled out his cell phone. "How much? Or I could call the police and they could settle this dispute for us. I'm sure, as his owner, you have all the necessary licenses and papers needed to prove ownership. And I'm sure there's a logical explanation for those scars." He waved the phone at the kid, a frightening smile upon his face.

The gang kid paled slightly, but Harvey quickly saw anger flood his cheeks. They were in trouble, and this kid probably had a knife or a gun somewhere hidden in those baggy clothes. Not to mention the growling dog that was now baring its teeth at Harvey, saliva dripping from its jaw.

"You mother—" the kid began and flipped a pocket knife out as he stepped menacingly toward Harvey.

But suddenly Mike was shouting "Now!" and the dog that had been so convincingly threatening Harvey had now latched its sharp teeth into the flesh of the gang kid's wrist, forcing him to drop the knife and scream in pain. The kid shook the dog off of him, kicking desperately at it until it let go, and ran away clutching his bloody arm.

Harvey warily stepped away from the dog and watched in horror as it lunged at Mike.

But instead of a sharp cry of pain and flailing bloody limbs, there was slobbery tongue and leaping, begging paws against Mike's face and chest. They looked as happy as those dogs in the commercials and Harvey resisted the urge to throw up even as his brain memorized the image of the smiling blue-eyed Mike laughing in glee.

"Thanks Oscar!" Mike shouted happily to the mutt. "But you know, Mr. Specter also helped. You should thank him, too."

And suddenly the dog was leaping onto Harvey, who was desperately attempting to dodge. He ended up more drenched in slime and slobber than if he'd simply stood there. Mike was laughing though—it was a nice sound.

When the dog was done, it looked again at Mike and panted happily, tail wagging. Harvey glared over after examining his suit.

"This suit cost two thousand dollars," Harvey said miserably.

Mike looked at him, confused smile on his face. It fell slowly as he realized Harvey wasn't joking.

"Oh. Well, considering you never actually paid me for the other day, let's call it even."

Harvey ignored the guilt he felt as he realized Mike was right. He'd assumed Donna would have taken care of it, actually. "You're services cost two thousand dollars?" he said skeptically.

Mike coughed and instead changed the subject. "Thanks for helping with that…with Oscar and all. He's really grateful."

Harvey looked at the dog, wondering if maybe Mike had set all of this up. But that blood _had_ looked amazingly real…

"He says his owner made him fight other dogs and beat him all the time. He didn't like you at first, but he knows you'll make a good owner," Mike said, face beaming nervously at Harvey.

Harvey nodded until he processed that last sentence. "Wait, what?"

Mike picked up the trailing end of Oscar's leash and handed it to Harvey. "He says to tell you he needs to go to the bathroom before you guys go home."

"No way," Harvey said, and shoved the leash back at Mike. There was no way he was accepting this dog. He had a cat and that was good enough. Mr. Whiskers— _Stuart!_ —would probably kill him if he brought a dog home, anyways. He sometimes wondered if his cat wasn't actually somehow a robot controlled by Donna.

"But you offered to buy him!" Mike argued.

Harvey stuffed his hands in his pockets, refusing to allow them near the end of that leash. "For you!" he argued back. There was an awkward silence and Harvey could see Mike trying to work out the implications of that sentence. "Look, I was just trying to help. I was just going to threaten that kid into not hurting the mutt when you got yourself into trouble."

"Me? I was helping Oscar. And I can take care of myself."

"Good, then you can take care of a dog, too," Harvey said smugly.

Mike frowned at him. "He wants to go with you."

"Is your psychic ability telling you that?" Harvey mocked.

"Look, I can't…my building doesn't allow pets. I have to go." Mike shoved the leash through the gap between Harvey's arm and his side and stalked off towards his bike. He came to a jarring halt as he noticed it missing.

Harvey gave a chuckle. "Lose something, kid?"

Mike didn't turn back, just continued trudging down the street. Harvey appreciatively watched the way his ass moved as he walked until Mike disappeared from view. It wasn't until he turned to hail a cab that he realized the dog was still there, staring at him.

Stuart was _not_ going to be happy.


	4. Chapter 4

It had taken Harvey two weeks to decide he was keeping the damned dog.

Oscar—he kept the name Mike had suggested—had turned out to be extremely well behaved, despite what his previous owner had inflicted upon him. Harvey had expected the mutt to show at least a distaste for the veterinarian he'd taken him to, but instead the dog had proven to be highly amiable and cooperative.

After ensuring he didn't have rabies or whatnot, Harvey took him home to meet Stuart.

He'd been certain that his cat would have forced him to abandon the dog, but Stuart had surprised him. The cat had opened his eyes, peering down at Oscar from his position atop Harvey's couch, and stared lazily.

Oscar had cocked his head to the side, given a sniff, and then, ignoring Stuart, proceeded to rub against every item of furniture in Harvey's condo. Harvey supposed it was better than the alternative method of marking one's territory, and so he gritted his teeth and carefully picked up the fur the beast left on his teakwood floors.

He had attempted to ask Donna to get rid of the dog immediately after the incident with Mike, but she'd simply looked at him like she was debating where the best place to hide his body was, so he'd decided to seriously consider keeping Oscar instead.

The next time he'd thought of getting rid of the mutt had been the very next day, when he'd been about to call someone to pick him up after he'd knocked over one of his more expensive sculptures and chewed on the case of his Star Trek Season One box set. But as he was dialing the number, Oscar had stared pitifully up at him, and Harvey was reminded of Mike. He found himself envisioning the kid with tears of anger and hurt in his eyes, and suddenly Harvey really did feel heartless. Something had twisted in his gut as he realized that Mike would never forgive him for getting rid of the damned dog, and Harvey knew he had to keep it.

Maybe a dog wasn't such a bad idea, anyway. He could take him on his morning runs, and now Stuart wouldn't be so lonely.

So Harvey now found himself with two roommates instead of one. But he couldn't help feeling like he was still missing something at home.

By the second week of Oscar's inclusion into his life, Harvey had acquired a leash, a collar, a dog bed, dog dishes, chew toys (so his collector's items would stay safe), and dog food. He'd also grabbed a few new items for Stuart so he wouldn't feel neglected; Harvey didn't need a repeat of that particular incident. Though secretly, he hoped the two wouldn't get along, if only so he'd have an excuse to have Mike return, not that Harvey would ever let himself seriously listen to such nonsense.

But now that Oscar was living with him, Harvey couldn't help but be reminded constantly of Mike. Every time he looked at the canine he recalled the image of a smiling and gleeful kid with bright blue eyes and a fine ass.

This vision angered Harvey. It forced him to realize not only that he had a special attraction to the fraudulent fake animal psychic, but that he had no control over his own imagination.

He was now more determined than ever to forget about the damned kid.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens...

It had been almost three months since he'd acquired Oscar when Harvey finally saw Mike again.

He'd managed, for the most part, to forget about the pyschic, despite the images that flooded his brain every time he saw his dog. There were still the occasional awkward dreams of the kid, but he'd mostly managed to disperse those as well. And if anyone noticed that his most recent bed partners were anything but blonde-haired and blue-eyed, well, no one said anything, least of all Harvey himself.

Work had been especially trying the past few months, and Harvey had finally worked through a particularly large case load that ended with the firm getting over a million dollars in pay out. Considering that it had taken Harvey quite a bit of effort to win the case, Jessica seemed to take pity on him.

She had given him a pro bono assignment, which he hated, of course, but made it very clear that this would be a reprieve. And Harvey wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth; well, he was actually, but not when said gift horse was Jessica Pearson.

So he found himself calling and arranging a meeting with his newest client, the city zoo's tiger exhibit expert.

Friday came all too quickly, and Harvey arrived in a poor mood, having had to skip his morning coffee to get to the zoo before the rush. He was now waiting irritably in the vicinity of the tiger exhibit at the zoo café. Around him swarmed people of all shapes and sizes. Harvey resolved to never wear this suit again—it was definitely unclean after that woman (or man—Harvey wasn't quite sure) had bumped into him. God only knew what diseases these people carried on them. Not to mention all the animals.

"Harvey Specter?" said a voice that was laced with false cheeriness. Harvey could hear the depression and anxiety beneath it. He turned to find a young zoo worker wearing the uniform T-shirt and khaki pants.

"Jason Pullman, I presume?" he asked, attempting to sound polite and inviting. He'd thought he would be older.

Jason nodded nervously and they shook hands, Harvey wishing he'd brought that bottle of hand sanitizer from Donna's stash.

"Thanks so much for coming. Makena and I are really grateful."

"Makena?" Harvey asked confusedly. He certainly would have remembered _that_ name being in the case file.

"Oh, that's our tiger's name. It means happiness, apparently."

Harvey resisted the urge to roll his eyes at this whole thing. For some reason, a stray thought of blue eyes made him feel guilty for wanting to. Instead, he said, "Why don't you tell me the current problem and show me the exhibit?"

Jason nodded and led Harvey in what he hoped was the direction of the tiger exhibit. "Right. Well, the investor who's funding the exhibit is threatening to pull their funding. We have a contract with them that says they can't, but they're claiming it's not valid since Makena has been sick lately, and the contract only holds if the tiger featured isn't in danger of dying."

" _Is_ it in danger of dying?"

Jason shook his head roughly. "No! She'd been sick for a bit, but then she got better. Except…well, she hasn't been eating lately. No one can figure out why, and someone's been spreading rumors all yesterday that we have plans to put Makena to sleep! Those rumors aren't true! We'd never do something like that!"

"Not to mention it's illegal," Harvey added. Tigers were protected by the Endangered Species Act. "Your investor is probably trying to cause trouble in the hopes that you won't be able to prevent him from pulling his funding. Don't worry, it won't seriously affect your case now that you have me."

Jason threw Harvey a strange look of awe and suspicion. "Well, I'm glad you're here then. But if it doesn't affect the legal aspect, it does hurt the zoo. Today we've gotten dozens of protestors standing outside the exhibit, shouting about how we're mistreating our animals! The bad press alone is enough to put the zoo in trouble with its other investors! We've already gotten threats about the polar bear exhibit."

"I'll have someone take care of it," Harvey promised.

Jason sighed in relief. "Thank you, Mr. Specter. But, until you do, please ignore the swarm of PETA supporters wreaking havoc up ahead."

Harvey decided he liked this Jason Pullman fellow and realized that the man's warnings weren't unfounded as they neared the tiger area.

There were hoards of people shouting and passing out papers, accosting innocent zoo visitors, and waving signs. He wondered why security hadn't handled them yet.

"We're a little short staffed right now, what with the economy and all," Jason explained, and Harvey began to notice two security guards attempting to confiscate the signs of the protestors. They looked like they had their hands full.

"Here's the exhibit," Jason said, pointing at what looked like a very impressive display of a large grassy area and pond, removed from their level by a moat and a large drop, and with a very large, very orange Malayan tiger. She looked tired and was simply lying lazily in the sun.

"Looks like a nice set-up, as far as zoos go," Harvey offered politely. Though _he_ certainly wouldn't want to be confined to such a small area with people gawking at him all day. He avoided drawing the conclusion that his office equated to just such an area with its glass walls that allowed the jealous junior partners and associates to gaze in on him in awe.

"Yeah, but I'm worried about her," Jason said, nervously leaning over the exhibit wall as he peered down at the tiger. "She hasn't moved all day. And her food is still just sitting there. Why won't she eat anything?"

Harvey noticed a large slab of meat sitting in what looked like a large plastic dish off to the side. It was indeed untouched and the tiger didn't even look interested.

Harvey stumbled forward as he was rudely shoved by someone walking past them. He noticed it was one of the protestors who was now starting up a chant about saving the animals, and he involuntarily scanned the growing crowd behind them.

His eyes slid past a group of people who looked like they were simply trying to see past the nut jobs to get a look at the tiger, when Harvey thought he saw a familiar face. He forced his gaze to return to that spot and found himself looking at a completely uncomfortable-looking Mike.

He wasn't aware of what he was doing until he'd already gotten a firm grasp around Mike's wrist and had tugged him over to their spot by the exhibit railing.

"Mr. Specter?" Mike asked in disbelief. Harvey noticed the kid's eyes were squinting in pain, like he had a headache, and he looked somewhat sweaty and pale. He hoped the kid wasn't contagious.

"Friend of yours?" Jason asked disinterestedly as he continued to peer down worriedly at the tiger.

"Sort of," Harvey said, as Mike harshly said, "No."

Jason turned to look at them in confusion.

"He's an animal psychic," Harvey offered.

Mike snorted. "Oh please, since when did you believe that?"

"I never said I did. I was simply stating your…'profession'."

"You know, I can _hear_ the quotes around that," Mike glared at Harvey and turned to leave, but Harvey snagged his wrist again, and this time he didn't let go.

Jason was giving Mike a skeptical look. "Well, we don't really invest in that sort of hocus pocus. No offense, sir."

"He's good with cats," Harvey said hastily.

Mike gave him a surprised and wary look.

Jason sighed. "Very well, why not? What's the worst that could happen? Oh right, I'd get fired."

Harvey raised his eyebrow at Jason. "I'll represent you in court if it comes to that."

"I need to be closer," Mike interrupted impatiently. "And since I doubt that's possible, I'll just be on my way." He attempted to slip from Harvey's grasp, but failed to do more than twist his wrist into a painful muscle cramp. Harvey dug his fingers in and looked expectantly at Jason.

"Oh fine! Geez! Follow me," the man said and led them to the rear of the exhibit and beyond the 'Employees Only' sign.

They were still behind the bars and a fence, but they were only ten feet from where Makena was lying.

"Okay, make it quick. I really could get fired for this," Jason urged them.

Mike shook his hand angrily from Harvey's grip and turned to stare at the tiger.

"Hey, Makena. What's up?" Mike said, as though he was talking to an old friend. Harvey rolled his eyes and Jason stared worriedly at the both of them. "I know, I'm sorry I haven't been to see you lately. You know how it is here for me." There was a pause and Mike tilted his head like he was listening intently. "Really," he said, concern lingering in his voice.

"He's talking to himself," Jason whispered irritated to Harvey.

"He does that," Harvey supplied. "He did fix my cat, though."

"You don't strike me as the type to believe in these kinds of things, Mr. Specter."

"I don't," Harvey stated matter-of-factly. "But whether or not he actually spoke with Stuart, he still got him to behave. Good enough for me."

Jason gave a shrug and they resumed listening to Mike's one-sided conversation.

Harvey found himself staring at the way Mike's jeans seemed to hang perfectly off his lithe form. He resisted actually staring at his ass, but he did notice the way Mike was shaking slightly. He looked absolutely terrible, like he had the flu or something.

"I know how you feel, but trust me, it won't fix anything." Another brief pause. "I know from experience, Makena. You trust me, right?"

Harvey and Jason shared an eyeroll.

"Then if you really do, you'll take my advice. C'mon, I know you're hungry."

Makena, who hadn't moved a muscle since this entire conversation had started, now swung her head over to stare at the untouched meat. Harvey saw Jason frown in disbelief and surprise as he worked out how that had to be a coincidence. It still amazed Harvey the tricks this kid seemed able to pull.

But all three of them—Harvey, Jason, and the tiger—were startled from their thoughts by Mike's knees hitting the cement with a sickening smack. The kid was gripping the bars of the gate and breathing heavily, but he was still staring intently at the tiger. Makena had not only shifted her gaze to rest on Mike, but she was now standing, Harvey noticed in awe.

He took a step towards the partially collapsed man as Jason went off to fetch help or a first aid kit, or water. Harvey wasn't sure. All he cared about was that Mike didn't look good, and since he preferred to see the kid's good looks, this was unacceptable.

But Mike waved a hand back at Harvey, halting his step towards the psychic.

"I don't have much longer, girl. Please? For me?"

And Harvey witnessed the tiger stare at Mike for a second more before walking over to the dish and munching on the meat there. He turned to see a gaping Jason watching the scene next to him, water bottle and damp towel in his hand.

"How did…" he trailed off.

"Told you he's good with cats," Harvey said, proud for a reason he couldn't fathom. It wasn't like Mike in any way reflected Harvey. He wasn't even associated with him in the slightest. But Harvey couldn't help the emotions swirling inside him as he looked at Mike's work. After so long without the kid, he was finding it even harder to not think of the possibilities.

Mike hung his head against the bars, making them ring out as his skull hit the metal. Jason shook himself and handed Mike the water bottle.

But Mike didn't move. Harvey snatched the towel and bottle and knelt down beside Mike.

The kid had his eyes closed, scrunched tightly in pain, and he didn't move when Harvey placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mike?" he called softly.

Mike's eyes snapped open and he stared into Harvey's for what felt like forever before ripping the water bottle from Harvey's hands.

He struggled to his feet after a few sips of the cool beverage and Harvey sneaked the towel around Mike's neck. The shudder it caused sent shivers through Harvey and he bit back the sudden urge to further familiarize himself with Mike's neck. His mouth was suddenly very dry.

"Thanks, um. I think she'll eat from now on. She's just lonely. She says she's worried that you and Holly don't care about her anymore because she never sees you," Mike muttered, shrugging from Harvey's reach.

Jason gaped for a minute. "Holly? That's because…How did you…?"

Mike gave a little smile and then proceeded to make his way towards the exit.

"I'll call you with updates on your case, Mr. Pullman. Thanks for meeting me on such short notice," Harvey said, quickly shaking a dazed Jason's hand and then following Mike out of the area.

He caught up to the kid at the flamingo pen.

"Mike," he called, turning the kid around with a hand on the shoulder.

Mike looked utterly exhausted, like he was going to pass out any second. "I…I don't have time or energy enough to argue with you today, Mr. Specter. That's three times now I did something for you without being paid, and I really can't afford to be in here any longer." With that he turned to leave.

Harvey grabbed his wrist and gave a gentle tug. Mike stumbled, but stayed standing.

"I kept the damned dog," Harvey muttered in the desperate hope it would keep Mike still for more than a second.

Mike stared disbelievingly at Harvey. "You're lying."

Harvey shook his head. "Stuart liked him too much."

Mike stared a few seconds more before pulling the corners of his enticing mouth up into a small smile.

Harvey smiled back and for a second it was perfect.

Until Mike winced in pain and threw his hands up to his head, stumbling a few steps.

"I'm fine," he said as Harvey tried to steady him.

Harvey snorted. "Yeah, right. I don't have to be a fake psychic to tell you're lying, kid. You're terrible at it."

Mike pushed angrily at Harvey in the hopes of fending him off, Harvey assumed. "I just…I need to get out of here. I can't take any more," he pleaded, and Harvey realized that Mike wasn't trying to shove him away, but trying to find a handhold amongst Harvey's three-piece suit.

"Okay, kid. Let's go," he said, throwing an arm around Mike's shoulders and herding them out into the zoo parking lot.

"We're out," Harvey announced.

Mike mumbled something incoherent, and Harvey shook him a little, asked him to repeat it. "W'na sit."

Harvey smiled down at Mike in concern and affection. He hailed his waiting car and gently lowered Mike into the backseat. He tried to ignore the bubbly feeling welling up inside him as the blonde laid his head on Harvey's shoulder as they drove off.


	6. Chapter 6

Harvey gently shook Mike as they pulled up next to Harvey's condo.

"Wha?" Mike asked groggily, not bothering to lift his head from Harvey's shoulder.

"Mike, we're here," Harvey whispered to him, ignoring the grin he was seeing from Ray in the rear view mirror.

Mike just sank even more into Harvey than ever, and Harvey's very fun and highly inappropriate dreams came back to him in a flash. He recalled that more than one of them had started out in his car.

"Come on, you have to get up. You have a client meeting, remember?" Harvey lied, hoping the image of animals in need would wake the kid up.

It worked just a little too well. Mike shot up off of Harvey's shoulder and proceeded to hastily climb out of the car. Harvey tried to grab him but he wasn't quick enough. He told Ray to go home and then stepped onto the sidewalk.

Mike was wobbling dangerously as he stared curiously up at the fancy building before them.

"Wasn't I already here?" Mike asked to no one in particular.

Harvey hovered an arm behind Mike in case he fell over, but said, "I don't think so."

Mike frowned as he blinked at the lobby entrance. "I was. That guy lives here."

Harvey smiled wickedly. "What guy? The devilishly handsome one?"

Mike shook his head, stumbling a few steps and looking for all the world like a drunk at three in the afternoon. "Nah, that Harvey Specter jerk. He was an asshole. And his cat was just like him. Stuart was his name. Who names their cat Stuart, anyway?

Harvey shoved down the hurt he felt. Was that how Mike really thought of him? He forced out an amused chuckle, assuming his more usual air of quiet confidence. "I thought he preferred Mr. Whiskers."

Mike nodded, a smile on his face. He turned to look at Harvey only to stop short as his eyes shut tight in pain and his knees buckled. Harvey had been prepared to catch Mike, but it still surprised him. He carefully lifted Mike and proceeded to make his way up to his condo.

When they got there, Harvey nearly dropped the semi-conscious man right on to the marble floors.

His place was a complete mess.

Almost all of his vases were knocked over, strewn around the living room in various sized shards; his rugs were torn to shreds, the fibers sticking up every which way; his 60" high def plasma television set was now lying face down across the coffee table; his couch had huge claw marks in it, the pillows had bites out of them with stuffing spilling from their insides; and worst of all, his Star Trek collection was all over his floor—dare he say it?— _out of order!_

Harvey took a deep breathe and set Mike down on the only patch of nearby floor not littered with dangerous sharp objects, and waded through his home to the bedroom. It was almost as bad as the living room, but he thought he could put Mike in there without too much personal injury.

He hadn't quite imagined Mike's presence in his bedroom to be so…dull, but he supposed it was better than nothing. Besides, any of his more amorous thoughts had fled at the sight of the carnage that pervaded his home.

Harvey took a moment to collect himself, glanced back to make sure the fake psychic was still mostly out of it, safely tucked under Harvey's thousand thread count sheets of Egyptian cotton, and then stepped carefully back into the fray.

"Oscar. Stuart," he called, eerily calm.

After a minute or two of waiting, the cat and dog appeared. They eyed each other menacingly, and Oscar took up a low growl while Stuart let out a long hiss.

"Hey!" Harvey interrupted. He was contemplating how best to punish them. He didn't want to upset Mike, obviously, and he wasn't one to harm his animals, but this was definitely a punishable offense. Maybe he could lock them on the balcony? Clearly they needed to be separated. He didn't understand what had brought this on, though. They had both been fine with each other since the beginning. What had happened while he was at the zoo?

He was just about to start using his courtroom/yelling at Louis voice when he heard a soft thud from the bedroom followed by groggy cursing. He took his attention off of the animals for a second to turn in Mike's direction.

He saw a surprised and weary Mike for about ten seconds before the tension building behind him snapped.

Oscar growled threateningly at Stuart, who proceeded to latch himself on to Harvey's pants, hissing at the dog. Harvey took a step in surprise, only managing to sink the sharp claws further into his leg and his very expensive suit. Oscar took all of this as a challenge and lunged for the cat, the force sweeping Harvey off his feet and onto the stunned Mike.

There was a burning trail of pain across Harvey's legs as Stuart ran across them, chased by a barking and snapping Oscar. They ran off in the direction of the kitchen and Harvey decided he didn't care. He was pretty sure his suit was ruined and that his legs were bleeding. At least he'd landed on something soft.

 _Mike!_ he thought suddenly. He lifted his head to see that he was right on top of the kid's pants, a nice place to be if it had been intentional. Instead it was just awkward.

Mike was writhing beneath him in what Harvey guessed was pain. They'd probably landed atop something, and Harvey realized with a quick glance and a feeling of dread that it was his limited edition, signed Star Trek box sets.

Harvey decided he should probably get off the kid and help him up, so he propped his arms on either side of Mike's hips to get the right leverage.

His wrist twinged in pain and he wondered if he'd twisted it in the fall. Either way, he ended up slipping with his nose hovering right over Mike's crotch.

The blond moaned in pain and looked up at him with dazed confusion on his face, like he had no idea what was happening.

Harvey was about to apologize and give a quick explanation when he heard his front door opening. He turned his head quickly to see an amused looking Donna in the doorway, key dangling from her fingers. Her eyes surveyed the damage to the room before looking back at Harvey.

"Well…this certainly explains a lot," she said smugly.


	7. Chapter 7

Harvey glared at Donna as he gathered up the shattered remains of one of his more expensive glass art works.

The redhead was busily sweeping up the patch of floor not covered in debris, looking entirely innocent and amused.

"It's not funny," Harvey growled at her.

She gave a look of shock. "Was I laughing?"

"Yes," he said angrily.

She gave in to a new fit of giggles then, and Harvey was forced to recall how Mike had run from the place like he was liable to catch the plague any moment as Donna laughed loudly at the whole situation.

"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"You invited me, if you remember," she said coolly, wiping tears from her eyes. "I must say, though, I never thought you'd actually bat for the other team."

Harvey scoffed at the expression as he was personally offended for some reason. "I'm not batting for the—that's the stupidest expression and I refuse to use it."

"Do I detect a subject change?" She gave him a bright cheery smile from over the broom handle and continued to sweep the already clean space.

Harvey picked up a particularly sharp piece of the shattered vase as he turned to face her. "I'm not changing the subject. How did I supposedly invite you over?"

"I need an invitation now? I thought we'd maybe watch a movie, which I guess is off the table now, considering the state of your television." Harvey followed her gaze over to the now upright screen. It had a gaping hole in the screen that would be nice if one wished to see what the inside looked like. The thing was useless. "I must say, you two certainly had quite a bit of fun for people with their clothes still on."

"You're a riot."

"I am, aren't I?" she said and gave him a wink.

Harvey rolled his eyes in exasperation. He tightened his fist in frustration, yelping when the sharp edge of vase bit into his palm. "Damn it!" he growled and dropped the thing, causing it break into three smaller, more lethal bits. At least he wasn't bleeding.

Donna threw him a sympathetic look. "Maybe you should ask your boyfriend to kiss it better," she sang softly.

 _That's it!_ Harvey thought, rising to his feet, only slightly wincing at the sting of the cuts Stuart had made across his legs. "He's not my—" Harvey stopped himself, refusing to be baited. "You realize you just destroyed any hope I had of fixing this and those cursed creatures?" he said instead in a steady, quiet rage, gesturing to the mess around them.

Donna looked pensive for a moment. "Oh, was that Mike? He was running so fast I barely recognized him…"

Harvey rolled his eyes at her and resumed his cleaning.

"Oops!" she said, not sounding even slightly sorry. "Wait, I thought you didn't believe in that kind of thing."

"I don't."

"So why was he here, then?"

Harvey gritted his teeth. "Maybe he just enjoys the pleasure of my company."

"Really? Because he told me that he hates you. I believe his words were 'self-centered, arrogant, uncaring bastard.'"

Harvey's chest tightened at her words and he recalled what Mike had said about him as they were getting out of Harvey's car.

"Look, I just gave him a ride from the zoo and he was too out of it to give me his address. End of discussion. So either clean in silence or get out!" he yelled at Donna, remembering too late that yelling at his assistant was a step on the road to making life a living hell. But surprisingly, the woman was silent; the swish of the broom had paused and Harvey couldn't help his gaze finding her face.

She looked worried, of all things. "You took him to the zoo?"

"No. I happened to see him there while I was talking to Jason Pullman about the tiger exhibit." Harvey studied Donna's slightly horrified expression. "Why? What's it matter? You'd think the man who loves animals to the point of committing fraud in the hopes of becoming disturbingly closer to them would love the zoo."

Donna shook her head. "You're both idiots," she said softly and returned—silently, this time—to sweeping the floor.

"Donna," Harvey called, hoping for an explanation. She ignored him. So he glared at her for a full five minutes.

"What?" she finally asked, sounding distracted.

He sighed. Why did he care so much? Why did he care at all? "Why doesn't he like the zoo?"

She didn't answer for a minute or two. Finally: "You'll have to ask him."

"I'll never see the damn kid again after today. I doubt even if I told him my moronic pets were about to commit suicide by leaping from my balcony he would ever come back here." Harvey hated the pained feeling that statement caused him. He wanted to see Mike again, and he hated that he wanted to.

"I'm sure if you ask nicely," Donna began.

Harvey just gave her a scathing look.

Donna sighed heavily. "Fine, I'll take care of it."

Harvey returned to his cleaning, refusing to acknowledge the stunted happiness bubbling inside him at the thought of him seeing Mike again.

"Huh," she said quietly.

Harvey knew he was going to regret asking. "What now?"

"Nothing."

He chose to accept that as an answer. Unfortunately, Donna seemed intent on ridiculing him now that he'd displayed interest.

"Didn't think he was your type, you know, on account of him not being a woman. Or easy. Or heartless. Or—"

"I get the point Donna," Harvey interrupted hastily.

She gave him a wicked grin and set the broom down to pick up Harvey's now squished and completely destroyed Star Trek: Original Series signed box set he'd gotten as a gift from George Takei a few years ago after Harvey had helped him out with the Devious Sponge incident. "Oh, Harvey," she said sadly.

Harvey grimaced as he looked at the sad thing. He definitely did not let out a pathetic whimper.

"Don't worry. We'll give it a proper burial," Donna said, sniffling a little and letting out a small mocking smile.

Harvey most certainly did not have anything already in mind about funeral pyres. Nope. Definitely not.


	8. Chapter 8

For the next week, Harvey felt completely off his game. He couldn't stop thinking about Mike, first off, and Donna had forced him to admit that he liked the kid as more than just a good joke.

And there was something about the blue-eyed psychic, though Harvey seriously doubted his supposed abilities. Whether or not Mike was capable of ESP, the kid was good with animals, a talent Harvey sorely needed at the moment.

His home life was broaching on more than just unpleasant; his living room was still in ruins, he was without a TV, his priceless artifacts had been destroyed, and he didn't even want to talk about his Star Trek collection.

He still had no clue what had come between Stuart and Oscar, but he was certain it needed to be resolved immediately, before any more of his invaluable sentimental treasures were sent to wait for him in the afterlife.

Donna had promised Harvey that she'd speak to Mike on his behalf, but only regarding the state of his pets. Beyond that she had refused to aid him. He'd gotten the feeling that she was enjoying her role as third-party observer a bit too much. Not that he could do anything about it. Mike was _her_ friend, after all, and Donna…well, Donna was Donna.

By the end of the week he was hanging onto his sanity by a tattered thread. He just hoped he wouldn't return home to find that his pets had developed gun powder in the middle of the day and bombed the hell out of his condo.

It was a particularly hot Friday afternoon that week, and Harvey was extremely busy trying not to die of heat stroke in his office. The air conditioning had failed earlier that morning and Jessica and a few of the building's other powerful occupants were doing everything they could to get it fixed before they all melted. But of course, in New York, that meant that the repairmen were only moving a fraction of a second faster than normal, which was virtually not at all.

Harvey had been attempting to get the final casework done for Jason Pullman's case at the exhibit, when the heat literally caused his pen to explode. At least, he blamed it on the heat. Ink had splattered all over the files and across his pastel blue shirt that Rene had made for him just yesterday. And of course, it was so hot that Harvey feared if he removed his shirt to exchange it for a fresh one, that he'd never want to put the shirt back on after he got it off.

He lazily patted the files on his desk with a tissue in a fruitless attempt to salvage the papers, wondering idly why Donna hadn't rushed in with his replacement suit. He glanced out of his office to see an unfamiliar man chatting amiably with her—and Donna never chatted amiably with anyone except Harvey or his mother.

The man was wearing the cheapest suit he had ever seen, with shoes that matched only in price range. His hair was an unruly blond mess, and he seemed too skinny in the untailored fabric. It wasn't until Donna stood and opened Harvey's door that he realized the man was Mike. He tried not to let flashbacks of their last disastrous encounter plague him as he avoided the man's gaze.

"Harvey, Mike's here about some business."

He tried to convince himself that he didn't care that Mike was here at all, but the heat was making it difficult to think. Yes, it was definitely the heat. Without looking up from his papers, Harvey said, "It's customary to call and schedule an appointment."

Mike fidgeted nervously. "Donna said to come in whenever…"

Harvey looked up at him finally, edging closer to his desk in an effort to hide the ink stain on his shirt. Mike looked uncertain of himself. He was, like everyone else in the building, sweating from the heat, but his eyes were focused everywhere except on Harvey. He kept tugging at his horribly skinny tie—another fashion travesty. Harvey ignored the images of a Mike who was sweaty for entirely different reasons that were flashing into his brain.

"Umm, so do I—"

"Have a seat," Harvey said, gesturing to one of the leather chairs in front of his desk.

Mike sat down quickly, back rigidly straight, knee bouncing up and down slightly. He finally let go of his tie and clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs.

"What can I do for you? Are you under investigation by the fashion police?" Harvey jested.

Mike glared. "No. One of the veterinary hospitals I help out is being wrongfully sued for malpractice."

"What do you want me to do about it?"

Mike swallowed. "Whatever you can. Please."

Harvey stared at Mike, considering his options. He'd of course need to know the specifics of the case. He'd already decided he'd help Mike. He just needed to know how. He ran his thumb up and down the length of the pen in his hand as he stared at the blond.

Mike's eyes flicked from the pen to Harvey. "You know that's leaking, right?"

Harvey frowned in confusion before studying the pen in question and discovering a huge swatch of ink across his hand. He swore and ripped a wad of tissues from the box on his desk.

Mike was clearly trying not to smile, and it made Harvey annoyed at how happy the sight made him.

"Donna!" he called distractedly.

The redhead was nowhere to be found, unfortunately. Harvey swore again.

"I was uh, also hoping you could maybe pay me?"

Harvey glared at Mike.

"You know, for all my services."

Harvey looked down at his black-stained hand, then at his ink-spattered jacket and decided the suit was ruined before pulling out a new pen. "What's the damage?"

"Uh, well, I usually charge about $50 per animal—"

"For the hospital," Harvey interrupted.

Mike blinked at him. "Uhhh, well," and there was a pause where it looked like Mike was doing some intense thinking. Then he started rattling off all sorts of legalese that sounded to Harvey a lot like a brief.

Harvey eyed him suspiciously. "Is that supposed to impress me?" Not that he'd admit that he was impressed.

"No. That's what my suit was for," Mike smiled back, and Harvey wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

Harvey turned his gaze back to his desk and started scrawling the first few lines of "Ring of Fire" down, hoping he looked insanely busy. "Well, I'll think about it. I assume they can't afford my services or else they'd have bothered to arrange a meeting with me, which means I'd have to do it pro bono. And I don't do pro bono."

Mike looked like he was about to deflate. He sank into the chair a bit and turned to glance at Donna's empty station like she'd be able to hand him the world. "But Donna said—"

"I'll think about it. I need to see the particulars first, so why don't you send them over and then we'll discuss the case more?" Harvey wasn't going to do this without securing another meeting with Mike.

The blond seemed to perk up a bit as he realized Harvey was actually going to help him. "Thank you, Mr. Specter." Harvey winced at the formalness of the name.

"Harvey," he corrected.

"Harvey."

The awkward silence was beginning to filter into the room, so Harvey gave the kid one last glance. "Why don't you schedule another meeting with Donna. We'll talk then."

Mike nodded and allowed his gaze to rest on Harvey's scattered and partially drowned papers.  
He stood and peered over at Harvey's files. Harvey gave him an annoyed look, but the kid didn't seem to be paying any attention. His eyes were zipping across the page and Harvey briefly feared the man was having a seizure.

"Who typed that, a monkey?" Mike scoffed.

"Close enough." _The associates aren't as hairy_ , Harvey thought. "Why?"

"Because there are about seven typos on that page alone. Not to mention the egregious error in citing that precedent case on the third to last line."

Harvey reread the third line from the bottom and noticed Mike was right. They'd cited the wrong case name. But how did Mike know that?

"How did you know that?"

Mike shrugged. "I like to read," he supplied mysteriously. Mike turned to leave and Harvey discreetly admired the kid from the back as he staggered out.

"Donna!" Harvey called again, this time satisfied when the assistant pushed into the office with his spare suit.

Once he'd changed shirts, he let himself collapse atop his desk only after Mike's retreating form had completely disappeared from view. It only took a couple more minutes for him to realize he'd just placed his new jacket's sleeve in the puddle of ink.


	9. Chapter 9

When Donna told Harvey he had a meeting with Mike, she had neglected to mention it was at a hamburger dive where anyone not living on the streets would be overdressed. He grimaced in distaste after stepping in an unidentifiable mess on the sidewalk and bent over to inspect his shoe; he considered himself fortunate not to have eaten already.

Mike was waiting inside the "restaurant", which was about the size of a jukebox, and looked even worse dressed than he had been the last time they'd met. He shuffled around nervously in tattered tennis shoes with mismatched laces, running fingers through his messy hair and constantly checking his watch. Harvey rolled his eyes at the image despite the fact that it felt heartwarmingly cute.

He decided to end the kid's fidgeting by making his entrance.

"I'm really hoping this isn't the animal hospital…" he said dramatically.

Mike gave him a look. "Don't be silly. Their secret ingredient here is people."

Harvey allowed the smile to form on his face. Mike seemed to have this annoying habit of making Harvey want to express…well, express.

He gestured to a table that looked somewhat less suspect than the others and Mike nodded. But when Harvey took a seat, he found that Mike had instead approached the counter to speak to the unsavory cook who looked like he belonged in a Great Depression-era hobotown.

After a few minutes of waiting, Mike brought over two surprisingly appetizing-looking burgers.

Mike gave him a curious stare as he brought the burger to his mouth. After tasting it and determining that the cook must have been some sort of deity, Harvey let out a pleased moan while he chewed.

"Best burgers in the city."

Harvey nodded his assent.

They ate in silence, Mike bought them some fries, and then they got down to business. The kid had already sent him the necessary files, and Harvey had, of course, already figured out how to win the case, started securing a settlement, and shown the case off to Jessica as a voluntary pro bono. The meeting was really more a show than an actual necessity, but Harvey had been looking forward to it all week.

He was busy telling Mike how they were going to crush the opposition, when he noticed Mike was shifting uncomfortably. _What now?_ he thought.

"Is there a problem?"

Mike shook his head, failing to convince Harvey that nothing was going on, so Harvey gave him a glare. Press until it hurts…he'd never really seen himself using that philosophy in this sort of situation, though.

"It's hot in here…"

"So take off your jacket. It's disgustingly hideous, anyway."

"I…I can't."

Harvey raised an eyebrow.

Mike heaved a defeated sigh and tore his jacket off. Immediately Harvey understood why he'd been reluctant before. Mike was wearing a dark blue T-shirt that boasted **Ask Me About My Psychic Powers!** in hot pink. The cat hair covering it wasn't a great addition either.

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

"Oh my god, did you just laugh?" Mike asked in wonder.

"I laugh," Harvey defended.

"Not at clothing affronts."

"I could have been laughing at the idea that you actually believe you have psychic powers," he deflected.

"True, although, technically, this shirt doesn't say I believe in them or that I have them, just that you should ask me about them."

"By stating that they're yours, you're suggesting that you do have them. So really, you're committing multiple accounts of fraud."

"Ah, but can you prove that that was my intent? Or can you prove that I don't have psychic powers?"

"I'd say there's a sizable amount of reasonable doubt, yes. You'd definitely lose in court."

Mike snorted. "Are you trying to buy me out?"

"That depends. Are you willing to settle?"

"No."

Harvey gazed at him in surprise. It would be a loss for him if he tried to go court, but the kid had guts at least. Of course, the fact that none of this was at all real may have influenced Mike's decision, but Harvey preferred to think the best of the kid. Another new and surprising ability he now harbored.

"You know you'd lose in court."

"Maybe, if I couldn't prove I was psychic. Then it'd be difficult." Mike was smirking now.

"Oh? Are you suggesting that your so-called abilities _can_ be proven?"

"Not necessarily."

"Explain."

Mike leaned back in his chair, a fry twisting idly between his thumb and forefinger. "Well, you've seen it first hand."

Harvey scoffed. "You mean that first day we met, when you 'spoke' to Mr. Whi—Stuart? I'd hardly call that proof."

"Okay, what about with Oscar?"

"All that I recall of that incident is that I ended up with a dog. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Sure!"

"Glad to see you understand the concept of sarcasm."

Mike smiled at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes. " 'Mocking, contemptuous, or ironic language intended to convey scorn or insult.' "

"You clearly missed the concept of rhetorical questions, as well."

"Ha ha. Okay, what about at the zoo?"

"What about it?"

"Well, with Makena."

"Who?"

"The tiger…" Mike seemed slightly angry at that. Harvey had almost forgotten about the tiger incident. After all, that was the day everything with Mike had started to go wrong. And then there was his poor Star Trek collection…

Harvey shook off the error. He didn't want to upset the kid, and clearly his lack of respect for the tiger had insulted Mike's sensibilities somehow. "Right. Well, that was a little more impressive, I agree, but still in no way sturdy enough to hold up in court."

"But I don't need it to hold up perfectly. All I need to do is present the possibility that it could have been possible," he said confidently.

"Because that always works."

"Okay, so disprove it, then."

Harvey blinked. Oh, this kid was brilliant. He'd successfully gotten Harvey to focus on the definite impossible task, leading him in circles until he'd fallen into his own trap. It was something Harvey would have done, and he'd let Mike smooth-talk him into it.

He leaned over the table. "How did you know about that precedent case last Friday?"

Mike shrugged. He seemed uncomfortable somehow, but as to the reason why, Harvey was at a loss. "I like to read."

"You like to read law books? Obscure ones at that," Harvey said, disbelieving. Friday, after Mike had left, his first conclusion was that Donna had somehow organized it that so Mike could seem impressive. But aside from any additional flaws in that explanation, Donna denied any involvement whatsoever. Harvey was still baffled.

Mike fidgeted. "When I was a kid, my dream was to become a lawyer. But…"

"But?" Harvey pushed him on.

Mike was frowning now. He looked like he was regretting adding that conjunction.

"Nothing. I made some bad choices, let myself be used by bad people." He took a deep breath, as if this was physically exhausting for him. "I got kicked out of college and did some bad stuff for a while."

"And then you met Donna," Harvey finished for him. He wondered what Donna had first seen in him, to have made an effort to befriend this kid.

"Yeah. She told me I was wasting my potential. I've never really had anyone to give me good advice before, except for my gram. Donna made sure I found something that utilized my…skill set."

Harvey nodded. "That still doesn't explain your knowledge of obscure legal cases."

"I found some law books in the library. Nothing much more to it than that."

"And you decided it would make nice light reading?"

"Well, I studied them. One of the bad things I did before Donna. I'd help people pass their LSATs." Meaning he cheated. Harvey read that one loud and clear. The fact that Mike had told him that showed promise; it meant he was starting to trust Harvey.

"And what made you decide that being a fake pet psychic was the right use of your talents?"

Mike gave a harsh laugh, though it wasn't bitter so much as it was amused. "Donna. She found out what I could do and, well… a couple years later I was helping this rich jerk get along with his cat."

Harvey chuckled. "First, I'm insulted that you couldn't come up with a more elegant insult, and as such, will be suing you for defamation of character. And second, you never denied that you were a fake."

"I didn't confirm it either."

A sudden thought occurred to Harvey, regarding Mike's purported abilities and a past incident. "Wait. The zoo. Donna was upset when she thought I'd brought you there. Why would that be?"

Mike looked suspicious. "Why would she think you'd take me anywhere?"

"Answer the question," he said harshly, hoping Mike wouldn't press on that thought any further.

"Well," he said, temporarily distracted by Harvey's forceful tone. "It's kind of hard for me at any place where animals are congregated. They all try to talk at once, not even to me. It kind of feels like a radio that's on too loud, but someone keeps upping the volume until you feel like your head's going to explode."

"But we live in a city surrounded by rats and pigeons and cockroaches. Flawed logic is hurting your case, you know."

"But it's different with them. Rats are quiet. They don't talk much. Sometimes you can hear them whispering about schematics. Pigeons are only loud in proximity. You can tune them out easily because they're so single-minded. And for some reason I can't hear cockroaches. I don't know if it's 'cause they're bugs, but some animals I can't hear at all. Like humans.

"And at the zoo, it's worse, because I'm used to the city animals, but zoo animals are all foreign. They think and speak differently. And they all seem able to sense me somehow, so whenever I come in they all shout at me like they're vying for my attention."

Harvey sat silently as he listened to Mike further explain his "powers". If the kid really could hear animals' thoughts, then it must be pretty rough. According to him, he couldn't turn the ability off, so his head was never quiet. But despite the kid telling him all of this, he still felt like Mike was hiding something.

"Harvey?"

"What?" He snapped his eyes back to Mike's, realizing he must have zoned out. It didn't look like it had been the first time Mike had tried to grab his attention.

"I'm just wondering. Why do you want to know all of this stuff about me? It's pretty obvious you don't believe me about ninety-nine percent of it. And you could have solved this case without talking to me here. I mean, I assume it's just because Donna asked you to, but still. It seems…uncharacteristic of you."

Harvey sighed. The moment had come. Well, Harvey wasn't afraid of speaking his sentiments, but this time around he found himself caring decidedly more than was usual about how they'd be received.

"No, Donna has nothing to do with it aside from getting a good laugh out of it."

"Huh?"

"I'm attracted to you," Harvey said matter-of-factly. Normally he'd play his little games of banter and seduction, but this felt right for Mike.

Mike stared at him for a beat and proceeded to nearly fall off his chair in a fit of laughter. Harvey had no idea how he should interpret this.

"No." Mike was laughing so hard that tears were leaking from his eyes and his breath was wheezy. Harvey at first thought he'd imagined the word that escaped Mike's lips. A rejection. Well, he'd tried, and now maybe he could finally forget about the adorably sexy idiotic genius that was Mike.

"No way!" Apparently Mike wasn't done yet, though. Harvey felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest.

"I'm glad you find this so entertaining." Wry humor had always served well in the past.

Mike was flailing an arm at him as he attempted to calm down. After another minute he was again capable of speech. "Since when?"

Harvey shrugged. "Well, physically, I'd say it was when you first came over to my place and I saw your ass sticking up from behind my couch after I'd gone to get you band aids. But if you meant in other capacities, I'd guess sometime around you flipping over your handlebars at our second meeting through landing on you in my apartment and destroying my one of a kind Star Trek Original Series box set."

Mike's face had turned bright red at the mention of his ass and had proceeded to grow to an almost radioactive pink by the time Harvey was done.

"Well?" Harvey asked after Mike continued to blush and remain silent.

Mike coughed and attempted to stall by stuffing the remaining French fries into his mouth.

Harvey rolled his eyes. "Do you find _me_ attractive?"

Mike choked. Harvey reached round to give him a hard pat on the back.

"I'll take that as a yes. I thought it only polite to ask, though, honestly, who wouldn't find __me_ _ attractive?"

Mike started to laugh again.

"Yes. Yes, I think you're…attractive. But…"

"I really think you should stop ending your sentences like that."

"But—"

"You don't like me in return. Well, I didn't think so. Not after what you said after the zoo, and certainly not after what happened in my apartment. Oh well."

Mike hung his mouth open in incredulity. "I was delirious! I don't even remember that! And I knew what happened at your place was just an accident."

"Why'd you leave so fast, then?" Harvey said skeptically.

Mike appeared to find Harvey's question to be dumb. "Did you not see the gossipy know-it-all redhead standing in your doorway looking like she wished she'd brought more than just the hidden camera in her purse?"

Harvey had to admit that did make much more sense than any of his own explanations.

"So…you do like me."

"Well…"

Harvey glared at him.

"Okay, well, I don't know, sorry! I don't hate you anymore. I stopped that after you saved Oscar. And then you let me help Makena, and you're helping the animal hospital. So I definitely like you as a human being despite your stunted emotions and narcissism."

"I'll take it," Harvey interrupted.

"And low standards," Mike added.

"Do you want to go to dinner with me or not?"

Mike paused. "Hell yeah. You're paying."

"Like you have any money."

"Maybe I would if you ever paid me."

"I don't have to pay if I'm dating you. It's a rule."

"Cheapskate," Mike muttered as they stood to leave.

"You took me to a dumpster for lunch," Harvey said, pointing at the coffin-sized building of the burger joint they'd emerged from.

"And it was the best burger of your life."

"Well it was certainly the most diseased."

"There's just no pleasing you, is there?"

"Oh trust me, kid. There are plenty of ways to do just that."

"I'm so telling Donna you said that."

"Don't you dare."

Mike chuckled as they headed back to Harvey's apartment. Donna could cover for him for the rest of the day.

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue, never fear. Also, there is another story that is to follow, which depending on time and demand from you readers, may or may not be multi-chaptered.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the epilogue! I must admit, however that I did not write this. The credit goes to TamIsMyFather, who voluntarily wrote this for me. There will, however, be another story in this universe. It will be called Settling In, so if you want to read more fluff from this verse, that will posted soon.

Mr. Whiskers was lounging upon the sofa, having finished his evening bath and eaten a meal that almost qualified as "adequate." He had had a stressful day, filled with eating and washing, and since he'd spent so much time arguing with Dog, he was quite behind on his rest, and rather looking forward to a peaceful night alone.

So of course Dog chose that moment to start barking.

Mr. Whiskers hissed, telling Dog to kindly be silent, and if he did not desist barking at once then he could forget about their Non-Aggression Pact and find himself on the receiving end of a swipe.

Dog was unimpressed. He snarled, and informed the cat that if he wanted a quiet place to sleep so badly, well, there was the door.

Well, Mr. Whiskers was not going to take that standing up. He curled into a defiant ball and puffed out his fur, letting Dog know that he was not to be trifled with.

Instead, Dog took that as a sign of aggression, breaking their formal treaty and lifting the ban on entering the Neutral Zone—Harvey's bedroom. He lunged for the door at breakneck speed, the scrabbling of his paws across the tile enough to rouse Mr. Whiskers and alert him to an enemy presence entering his rightful territory.

Mr. Whiskers leaped to attention, running across the back of the sofa and launching himself through the air in his haste to claim the coveted Sleeping Spot on Harvey's bed. It was a place of comfort and beauty that promised warmth and sanctuary, a place only for Harvey's own, and Dog could never have it!

The two of them collided in a tangle of fur at the foot of the bed, ready to battle to the death.

"Are you two still fighting?" a sleepy voice asked. Mike peered out from atop the Sleeping Spot, one bare foot dangling over the side.

"Everyone go to sleep or I will throw you out of this apartment," Harvey muttered. "Mike can stay."

Dog slunk away like the coward he was. Mr. Whiskers let out an innocent meow and trotted back to the sofa.

He hadn't wanted that Sleeping Spot anyway.


End file.
